


How Fenn Shysa Got His Wish

by FettsOnTop (GTFF)



Series: Meeting Like This [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1472308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GTFF/pseuds/FettsOnTop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It always bugged me how the EU skipped over the story of how Boba Fett came be Mand'alor. This is my version of events within the Meeting Like This universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

"Sorry to have abandoned you there." J'tyra shouldered in next to him at the table, a drink in her hand. Han Solo leaned his shoulder against hers and gave her an easy smile.

"I can look after myself."

"Yes, you're very self-sufficient," she said with a returning smile. "Which is good, because I see at least four more people that I need to speak with."

"Hey, you do your thing. I'm good." She was easy to track around the room, with her bright auburn hair and her posh Coruscanti accent. She didn't look like the kind of being one might expect to be part of the Outer Rim Coalition, but after ten years piloting among the stars in the farthest reaches of the galaxy, J'tyra was a passionate advocate for the freedom of the outer rim systems. It didn't hurt that her parent were Separatists during the Clone War, and instilled in her a healthy distrust of centralized, core-based governance.

"One of those people, I hope, will be your ex-girlfriend," she told him, her eyes drifting over to the other side of the room. "Would it be terribly awkward to ask for an introduction?"

Han followed her gaze to where Leia was standing in the midst of a crowd. She wore simple clothing and heavy boots, a bright green shawl draped around her and held at the shoulder with a yellow shoulder plate. A few hours ago she had given her report from the Mandalore system, smiling and confident as she stood behind the podium and talked about the new starfighters they were developing in Keldabe.

Her presentation ended with a demonstration. Two Mandalorian pilots showed off the speed, precision and tracking capacity of the fighters. It was impressive stuff, but Han found his eyes kept returning to Leia. Thunderous applause greeting the fighters as they landed, and she nodded graciously, nearly glowing with pride and delight. "Thank you. A round of applause please for our pilots, Fenn Shysa and Boba Fett."

"Han?" J'tyra prompted.

"What? Oh, yeah. Of course I'll introduce you."

Two young boys laughing and darting around among the adults brushed past them, and J'tyra laughed too. "What fun. You know, I remember going to Corporate Alliance meetings with my dad."

"Is this drink taken?" A gloved hand reached across the table and stole her cup. The Mandalorian pilot, a tall blond man, lifted it to his lips and drank the contents without pausing.

"It was," J'tyra said, amused. "But clearly you need it more than I do."

"You're as perceptive as ya are beautiful. Not tryin' to step on your toes, buddy," he added, offering Han a quick grin. "Just an observation."

"I very much enjoyed your demonstration," she continued. "You're quite a pilot."

"That's kind of ya to say." He motioned to a serving droid and picked up two drinks off the tray. "Here's a fresh replacement for ya.  _Oya_." He raised his glass. "To new allies. I'm Fenn Shysa, by the way."

"I'm J'tyra Holibaan, and this is Han Solo."

"Pleasure." The table wobbled precariously, and Fenn quickly lifted his drink out harm's way.

" _Haar'chak_! What are you rapscallions doin'?" He lifted the long cloth and looked down at the two boys concealed beneath.

"Uncle Fenn, put it down! We're hiding!"

"Well, try not to spill my drink," he said with mock sternness dropped the cloth back in place. He took a long sip and squinted slightly at Han. "Han Solo. Now I'm embarrassed, because I'm sure I know that name. Have we met before?"

"Pretty sure we haven't. But you work with Leia, right?"

"I do whatever she says, like all sensible folk. Friend of hers, are ya?"

"Old friend."

Fenn clearly caught the implication. "Ha. No kidding? Wait a minute. Han Solo." He snapped his fingers. "You're that smuggler that got froze in a slab of carbonite!"

"I'm sorry?" J'tyra said. "I don't think I've heard that story."

"It was a long time ago," Han said dismissively.

"Oh yeah," Fenn agreed. "Still, I oughta thank you. If she wasn't chasing Fett to get to you back, I might never of met Le'ika. Look here." He gestured for J'tyra's attention and then pointed. "See that follow over there, back along the wall? That's Fett. Leia's husband."

"He looks a bit bored," J'tyra noted. Han couldn't disagree. Like, Fenn, he had removed his helmet, but his complete lack of expression made it only a token gesture.

"Bein' social ain't really his thing," Fenn offered dryly. "Hey, ya plannin' to drink that?" J'tyra surrendered her cup, and the tall Mandalorian drained it. "My guess is he'd rather be anywhere but here. But Leia says she needs him to fly, and that's that."

"That's sweet," J'tyra offered. Fenn just nodded emphatically and kept talking.

"I've seen plenty of men gone over a woman, mind you. Hell, I been gone a few times myself. But Fett...I think he'd gut himself with a rusty hook if Leia asked him to. In fact, I'm damn sure he would. Ya know what we say on Mandalore? No, I guess ya wouldn't. 'The only thing a Mandalorian man should be afraid of is a Mandalorian woman!'" He laughed heartily, and Han nodded toward his empty cup.

"How many of those have you had?"

"Good question." Fett appeared at the tall Mandalorian's side. Fenn affected a look of shock.

"Oh, ready to be social now are ya?"

"You're drunk and talking about me. That never ends well."

"Ha." Fenn grinned at him. "Speak for yourself. This lovely lady is J'tyra. I guess I don't have to introduce you to her friend."

Fett met Han's gaze coolly. "No, we've met."

"Nice of you to join us," Han deadpanned in response.

J'tyra's eyes flitted between them, and then she cleared her throat. "I was just telling Fenn how impressed I was with your fighters."

"They're beautiful little machines," Fenn enthused without giving the bounty hunter a chance to respond. "Of course, to  _really_  fly 'em you gotta have a Mando pilot."

Han straightened slightly. "Is that a fact?"

"Well, I don't think-" J'tyra stopped and stared at him. "Oh gods, you're serious."

"I'm just saying...if you want to test that theory I'm game." Han's eyes returned to Fett. "You up for it?"

There was a bright spark of interest in the bounty hunter's eyes, but in a second it was gone. "Some other time."

" _Osik_ , do it," Fenn urged. "Why not?"

Fett turned to face him. "Because Leia is occupied and you're drunk. Someone has to watch the boys."

"Oh, you brought your children?" J'tyra was clearly aiming for a change in subject. "That's wonderful. Where are they?"

"Under the table."

The table wobbled again, and the cloth was jerked up from the inside. "Did Uncle Fenn tell you?"

"I been standin' right here and I ain't said a word," Fenn protested.

"Come out, both of you."

They obediently scrambled out, and Fett made curt introductions. "Mistress J'tyra, Captain Han Solo. My sons, Jonah and Kyd."

Jonah had dark hair and tan skin like his father, but Kyd was fair-skinned with red hair and freckles. Han deliberately looked from Fett to the boy and back at Fett again. "Huh. So...you guys do this a lot? Hang out and have fun with your dad while your mom works?"

Jonah gave a disbelieving snort. "Dad doesn't have fun."

"Is that so?" J'tyra questioned, amused. "No fun at all?"

"But we have fun," Kyd asserted. His brother nodded his agreement. Fett excused them with the slightest tilt of his head. Both boys were clearly eager to be off.

"Wait a second." Fenn bent over and put an arm around each boy's shoulder. "I might not see ya for bit, so how about a hug for Uncle Fenn?"

"You're not flying back with us?" Jonah asked with a frown.

"No, I got some business to take care of. Be good." As soon as Fenn released them they took off, weaving through the clusters of adults. They did look like they were having fun. When Han's attention returned to the table, Fenn was gazing wistfully into his empty cup.

Fett's eyes shifted toward him. "Something going on, Shysa?"

"No...nothing I can't handle." Fenn took just a second too long to long to raise his eyes. If they were sitting at a sabacc table right now, Han would bet big that tall Mandalorian had a shit hand. "I just- Might be gone for while. Keep an eye on things, will ya? Don't let anybody declare war while I'm gone." Fenn lifted his hand as if he was going to put it on Fett's shoulder and then seemed to reconsider. "Pleasure meeting the both of you," he said to Han and J'tyra, and then turned to walk away. Fett watched him leave, his face inscrutable.

"He's in trouble," Han said evenly. "You got that, right?"

The bounty hunter's cool gaze came back to him. "Leia is coming this way."

Leia's approach was diverted by a few more system representatives. She smiled and held out her hand in greeting, her shawl falling back enough to reveal the high swell of her belly under her tunic. J'tyra gave a soft laugh. She lifted a fresh drink off of a nearby tray and glanced at Fett as she raised it to her lips. "Your son wasn't quite right. Apparently you do have some fun now and then."

The bounty hunter turned his head toward her, one side of his mouth curling up in a fleeting gesture of acknowledgement that was unexpectedly shocking to Han. It was a human response, evidence of a person that he couldn't even imagine, but must exist in order for Leia to love him and stay with him all these years.

"Han!" And there she was, with a warm smile and outstretched hand. She barely looked older than the first time he met her, but maybe that was her hair, braided and wrapped over her ears.

"Leia." He took her hand. "Good to see you. This is J'tyra Holibaan, she's with the Commercial Pilot Guild."

"Senator," J'tyra said. "I'm very impressed with your work."

"Likewise, Captain Holibaan," Leia returned sincerely. They shook hands, smiling and sizing each other up. "I was just speaking with your co-chair about attending a meeting in Keldabe next month. We're developing a flight training program for our new fighters, and we would love to have your support."

"After that demonstration it's a very tempting offer. Do you see this as a future military branch of the Republic, like the X-Wing squadrons?"

"I expect our fighters to be invaluable to the Republic, but the base of training and operations will belong to the Mandalore system. Many of our potential pilots would be Mandalorians, and their allegiance is to the  _Mand'alor_ first." Her eyes scanned the room. "Speaking of, where is Fenn?"

"He left," Fett reported shortly.

"I thought he was riding back with us."

"No." Their eyes met, a silent message telegraphed between them.

"Where are the boys?"

Fett pushed a button twice of his armored gauntlet and small holo field blinked and vanished. "Observation room."

"You're  _tracking_  them," J'ytra said, amused.

Han leaned his elbows on the table. "You know, someday they're going to figure out that you're cheating at hide and seek. Then what?"

Fett shrugged. "If I trained them right, they'll try to misdirect or jam the signal. But they won't be able to, because it's hardwired." He glanced at Leia. "Then I guess we'll find out how good they are with soldering tools. Excuse me." He nodded once and walked away in the direction of the observation room.

Han waited until he was out of earshot before leaning towards Leia and speaking in stage whisper. "I still don't like him."

"Stop it." She gave him a wry look.

"Nice kids, though."

"Very nice boys," J'tyra agreed.

"Thank you." She rested her arms on the table, mirroring Han's posture. "Now I want to hear how you've been. How's Chewie?"


	2. Part II

One wrong turn.

That was all it took, that and a little bad luck. There was an open field to his left, a canyon to his right, a fifty meter drop behind him and a squad of assassin droids coming straight for him. Fenn Shysa cursed and fumbled with his ammo belt. No more charges for his blaster, but he had a detonator left. In a few seconds the squad would come through a strand of scraggly trees. IF they were close together, and IF he hit just the right spot, he could buy himself enough time to...

Go where?

"Face it," Fenn mumbled to himself. "You're hosed. And it's your own damn fault." There was a shiver of movement in the trees. The droids, or just the wind? His thumb pressed down on the detonators trigger, but he didn't pull it back yet.

There was a flash of metal and a blaster bolt caught him high in the shoulder. His armor took most of the impact. The second shot hit scorched a rock in the place he was standing only a second ago.  _Haar'chak_. No cover. Fenn pulled back the trigger and let the detonator fly, hoping that his luck was about a take a sudden turn for better.

The third shot slammed into his breastplate, knocking him back. The fourth hit him the stomach, just below his belt, and then he was falling. He heard the detonator go off, but he didn't see it.

So this was it. This was how he died.

He felt the impact of something against his back, and experienced a split second of confusion that he'd hit the ground so soon. Then he realized his downward trajectory was slowing, and he heard the roar of jet engines. There was an arm around his chest, a hand holding his belt.

Plus there was an awful lot of pain, so he must not be dead yet.

"Never make it," he heard himself say. "One jetpack. Two men. Too far."

"Shut up or I'll drop you," Boba Fett growled in return, and Fenn felt a strange sense of peace. The bounty hunter would have a plan. He always did.

As it turned out, there was a narrow ledge about ten meters down, and a shallow indent in the face of the cliff. Fett used his grappling hook to steer them in and lowered Fenn to the ground. There was bright blood smeared on his armor. "That's not good," he said flatly, his eyes on Fenn's stomach.

"Yeah. You're tellin' me."

He took a bacta patch out of one of his pockets and ripped open Fenn's bodysuit. "This is going to hurt," Fett warned as he pressed the patch into place. Fenn closed his eyes, his vision swimming.

"Don't worry about it. I'm just glad ya… how did ya find me?"

"I followed you. Leia was worried." A scattering of blaster fire pounded into the ledge behind Fett. "I think you missed one."

" _Osik_."

"We're safe enough here. Who wants you dead so badly?"

Fenn tried to laugh, but it hurt too much. "Stamuch Leebin."

"Aleck Leebin's father." There was no question that he remembered the former Grand Moff. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It ain't your fight. I was the one who offered his son protection and failed to deliver. Besides, Le'ika needs ya more right now, with all the outer rim politics and that baby on the way…" A cough rattled unpleasantly in his chest. "I'm glad ya decided to have another. Hope she's just like her mama."

"She not force-sensitive," Fett said abruptly.

Fenn could see this was important to him. Well, it would be. He made a clumsy fist and lightly punched the other man's arm. "Round two for the Fett genes, then." His arm immediately drew back, hugging his body as a fresh wave of pain washed over him. "I wanted to meet her. I'm sorry I won't get to." Fett said nothing in reply. "Not going to deny it, are ya? Bastard."

The bounty helmet tilted down, his visor aimed at Fenn's stomach. "I can't stop the bleeding for long. I can't move you. Maybe you have a few hours left. Maybe a few minutes."

"Ah. Well...that's that then."

"I took Leebin," Fett said after a moment. "You know I did. It is my fucking fight."

"I'm glad ya see that way...I need ya to do something for me, Boba."

He waited silently. Fenn drew in a breath. When had it become so hard to breathe? "Be the  _Mand'alor_. Don't let them fall apart after I'm gone. Remind them of who they are. Remind them of who they can be."

Another round of blaster fire hit the ledge. Fett was still. "I'm not a leader, Fenn."

"I...respectfully disagree." Another cough shook him deep inside, and he felt something wet and hot in the back of his throat. "Not that it...matters. You'll do it, won't ya? Give me...your word."

The bounty hunter's hand closed into a fist. "You have it."

"Damn right I do." Fenn reached over and grabbed the other man's arm, gripping it as tightly as he could. "One last thing. Don't make me wait to die."

He was half-afraid the bounty hunter would refuse out of spite, but after a few seconds Fett gave a single nod. Fenn closed his eyes, only dimly aware of the click of his helmet release and the cool air on his hot face. When he opened them, Fett had drawn his blaster, his hand steady as he pressed the barrel to Fenn's head. "Thanks," Fenn murmured. " _Mand'alor_."

Fett pulled the trigger.


	3. Part III

"Fenn Shysa is dead. I am Boba Fett, and I claim the title of  _Mand'alor_."

The device blinked, signaling the end of the recording.

Leia watched from a nearby chair, her hands moving restlessly over her swollen belly. "It's a little abrupt."

"What else do they need to know? They'll either accept it, or they won't." As far as Fett was concerned, the real message would be encoded within the message, not too hard to find for anyone looking. Coordinates to a rendezvous point and a time. An unspoken invitation to challenge his claim.

"Maybe they should know that you didn't kill him."

He lifted his helmet off and laid it aside. "I did kill him."

Leia looked away. "Don't say that. Those damn droids killed him. You saved him from an awful death."

"Which could have been  _avoided_." Anger tightened his throat and strained his voice.

When she looked back up at him, her eyes were full of tears. "He thought he was helping us. If he told you-"

"He would still be alive and I wouldn't be forced to implement his worst idea ever." Fett sat down at the console and began to input the code.

"It's not the worst idea," Leia said after a moment. "People listen to you."

"It's not the same. You  _lead_. I give orders." His fingers were quick over the controls, if slightly more forceful than necessary. "I don't give a fuck about Mandalore, or preserving Mandalorian culture. They can do whatever they want, as far as I'm concerned."

"So tell them that." He turned to look at her, and she tilted her head in response. "You can't rule Mandalorians. You have to give them the freedom to do as they chose, perhaps with a few...sensible suggestions now and then."

Fett returned to his work. "He should have named  _you_  the _Mand'alor_."

"But he didn't." She was silent for a few minutes. "Where are you setting the rendezvous?"

"Brachnor Point, two weeks from today."

"I think I should go with you."

" _No_."

"Yes," she responded coolly. "You need me."

He turned around and looked pointedly at her belly. "Are you planning to give birth before, after or during the meeting?"

"She's full term now. I'll just have to have her this week, one way or another." Leia shifted in her seat, her expression thoughtful. "Think about it. If you show up alone and armed to teeth, it would be easy for people to assume you killed Fenn out of ambition. If we go together, as a family-"

He stood up and strode over to where she was sitting, leaning over her for emphasis. "This is not a  _picnic_. If they challenge my claim, I have to defend it. If enough clans challenge it, it could turn into war."

His wife looked up at him calmly. "I don't think that will happen. Fenn was never exactly subtle about his desire for a Fett successor."

"Just because it was his wish doesn't make it anyone else's."

There will be clans that stand with us. Bard's clan, for one, and most of the clans from Concord Dawn. The Mandalorian Protectors you've worked with. Clan Ordo, will, I think. And Clan Vevut. Clan Skirata might be a bit of a wildcard. I think Kal would have, but since his death his son Jaing has been running things." Her lips twisted into a wry smile. "The first time I met with him he told me about growing up on Kamino. He said that you were an arrogant little snot and that he and his brothers once put your head down the 'fresher to teach you some manners."

Fett remembered it well. Chronologically, he was the oldest of the clones, but they grew twice as fast and it never seemed fair.

"Don't worry. I won't let anyone dunk you in a 'fresher at the rendezvous."

She was trying to be funny, but Fett wasn't seeing the humor at this particular moment. "It's safer if I go alone."

Leia made a dismissive gesture. "There's not a Mandalorian in this sector who would lay a hand on me or our children. If we do this right, violence is very unlikely."

"Unlikely. Not impossible." Fett dropped to a crouch beside her chair, rubbing his palm over the lower half of his face. "I don't want Jonah and Kyd to be the third generation of Fetts to watch their fathers die."

Her eyes softened, and she reached over and laid her palm against his cheek. "So let's make sure that doesn't happen. You have to trust me, Boba. This is my area of expertise."

* * *

Brachnor Point was a lone hill in the middle of a grassy plain. It was out in the open, when standing at the peak you could see for miles around.

Clan Bard arrived at daybreak, a swift response that Leia was deeply grateful for. They came with their armor and their weapons, but they also came with ale and food. Other clans arrived with the same, and by midday, the rendezvous did look sort of like a picnic. Jonah and Kyd were running around with the other children, hiding in the tall grass and shouting back and forth. Her new daughter slept peacefully, completely unaware of her make-shift crib and the people who came by to admire her. At least until she was hungry.

Leia had a comfortable chair and a good vantage point on her husband. He kept the story of Fenn Shysa's death to a minimum of details, but he was civil in his response. Today, that was all that was required of him.

By late afternoon, a few more clans had shown up to replenish the food and drink supply. No one offered a challenge. The sun was beginning to set, casting orange streaks across the sky when her friend Hira stopped and leaned over her chair. "Clan Skirata is here," she murmured. "Every one of them, as far as I can tell."

In spite of Leia's earlier confidence, her stomach fluttered and her eyes immediately went searching for Jonah and Kyd. They were with their father, sharing a few slices of  _uj_ cake. Her husband slowly stood as Jaing Skirata and two of his brothers approached. Fett's eyes went briefly to his helmet, but when he looked at Leia, she gave a subtle shake of her head.

He could do this. She knew he could.

Jaing removed his helmet as well, the two men with their features so similar, facing off in silence. Jaing finally spoke. "So.  _Mand'alor_ , is it?"

"It is," Fett replied evenly.

There was a pause, and then Jaing's eyes slid past Fett to where Leia was sitting. "Senator. You're looking well."

"Thank you," she replied graciously. "You'll excuse me, I hope, for not getting up. Come meet our new daughter. " She lifted the baby from her bed. She was awake now, her dark eyes searching the sky. Leia handed her up to Fett. In the eight years since Jonah's birth she had managed to forget how fragile humanity comes into the world, how small and how light. Fett held their daughter easily in his gloved hands, and her wandering eyes focused momentarily on his face. It was a such a little thing, the way he looked down at her with a faint expression of approval and the way her eyes seemed to reflect the same. Father and daughter. A little thing, but an important thing. A precious thing.

"A fine strong girl," Jaing said. "What's her name?"

"We named her Shysa," Fett answered, transferring her to the crook of his arm. His right hand spread protectively over her and she squirmed and grasped at one of his fingers.

"Shysa Fett," Jaing acknowledged with a wry smile. "Fenn would have liked that."

Her husband kept his eyes on their daughter. "Yes. He would have."

"I think that calls for another toast," Verlen Bard announced, offering cups of ale to the newest arrivals. "I don't know about you boys, but I'm not nearly drunk enough. Someone go get us some wood for a fire. If we're going to properly memorialize Fenn Shysa, we've got a ways to go."


End file.
